Some Things are Better Left Unknown
by Giesbrecht
Summary: Ch 1 slightly revised There are plenty of fics with Harry and Co. going back and time. What if the Marauders went forward?
1. Messing with Time

_Some Things Are Better Left Unknown_ 

fanfic by A. Giesbrecht 

"For in much Wisdom there is much Grief, and he that increaseth Knowledge increaseth Pain" --Ecclesiastes 1:18, KJV 

--Chapter 1: Messing with Time-- 

_ (A/N: Anybody who knows where I got the "Somebody Else's Problem" Charm deserves a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster. Or I can whack them with a lemon wrapped around a gold brick, its much the same thing.)___

_ Disclaimer: This is Rowling's world with my odd little additions. I own nothing._

It was Sirius' idea. Of course it was. Ideas like that don't come to sane people. They come to Sirius. And it was most definitely his idea.   
It started when Remus did an extra-credit essay for Professor Binns, chronicling the effects of time-altering artifacts and spells in different historical instances. His three best friends always insisted that Remus did NOT need to do any sort of extra-credit essay, as he never failed to have excellent grades, but Remus felt guilty when he missed a day once a month and he therefore did quite a few extra-credit essays. For this essay, he chose a very obscure event in the eighth century when a warlock accidentally invented a complex charm that sent a person through time. It was meant to be a charm to keep chickens from aging, but some things just don't turn out the way they're supposed to. Sirius immediately latched onto the idea of recreating the charm. He thought it was brilliant, going back and forth through time for the fun of it. For instance, he said, one could go a year into the future, find out who would win the next World Cup, return to one's ordinary time, and use that knowledge to extensive gambling benefit. James, Peter, and Remus ignored him on this one: the charm was immensely difficult, and charms altogether were not Sirius' area of expertise. But he didn't give up. In the end, he borrowed James' Invisibility Cloak, snuck down to the library, stole a book from the Restricted Section on Rare and Dangerous Charms, and started studying. This was in the Marauders' second year.   
By their fifth year, they'd all forgotten about this.   
Except Sirius.   
"Alright, Padfoot, what did you cook up this time?" James watched with some amusement as Sirius scampered about the Gryffindor common room, arranging some very odd looking objects. He had been doing this for the last half-hour.   
"I'll tell you in a minute," said Sirius, excited and quite breathless.   
"Looks like some odd treasure hunt," observed Peter, "except we can all see where you're putting stuff, and its not even hidden."   
"It's a charm," said Remus, camped out in a corner with a good book, and knowing that whatever Sirius was up to, it was no good, and likely very dangerous.   
"Spot on!" exclaimed Sirius, standing in the center of the room and checking a detailed diagram that looked painstakingly copied. It was about three in the morning--no one but they were awake. "I think I've got it. No..." He picked up a small wooden carving and moved it an almost imperceptible distance. He squinted at it. "Yeah, I've got it."   
"What," said James, "have you got?"   
"The circle. Its ready. Which means we can go!" Sirius looked up, his face flushed.   
"Go? Where?" James wrinkled his brow.   
Sirius grinned wickedly, and Peter took two steps back. "Why, my dear Prongs, the only place it is interesting to go: through time!"   
"Oh, c'mon!" said Peter, recovering. "You aren't s--"   
"Don't say it," said Remus. "He's bad enough as it is. And I do believe he is s--, er, I mean, he knows what he's doing. I mean, he means it."   
James grinned. "You mean he's serious." But before Sirius could say anything, he went on. "Do you honestly think this will work? Going through time?"   
"I followed the book to the letter!" said Sirius proudly. "Of course, its only succeeded once before, and that was when a chicken farmer was trying to get his chickens to live longer."   
"Is that where this is from?" James said, impressed. "Sirius, that was three years ago! You've been at this for three years?"   
"Yes, my dear Prongs, I have," admitted Sirius, not at all embarrassed. "Took me ages to figure it all out. And I'm sure it'll work. Did all the research and everything."   
"Sirius did research. There's a new one," said Remus, looking up from his book, interested in spite of himself. "May I ask why?"   
"I wanted to get it exactly right, that's why. This isn't just any Animagus spell or anything. This is time we're talking about!" Sirius flung out his arms, making an expansive gesture.   
"So... lets assume this works--" began James.   
"Which it will," put in Sirius.   
"--then, where--or should I say 'when'--do you want to go?"   
"Why, the only time in time worth going to: the future! Think of it: we can get all sorts of Quidditch scores to bet on, or find out what we'll do for a living someday, get answers to our NEWTs... who knows? We could even find out about some great catastrophe, avert it, and be made heroes! It'll be great!"   
Peter piped up then. "Couldn't that mess things up? You know, change things that shouldn't be changed?"   
"Since when were you the voice of reason in this group?" said Sirius. "The future hasn't been written, so, it doesn't matter if we change it."   
"Actually, Peter's got a point," said Remus. "It's all over the history books. Somebody found out about a future event, tried to change it, and ended up in worse trouble. How do you think the Black Plague got started?"   
Sirius waved this off. "Oh, c'mon Remus! Where's your sense of fun?"   
James snorted. "Last time you said that, Peter had fins for a week."   
"No," said Sirius. "Last time I said that, Snapeykins developed an unreasoning fear of kippers. C'mon, you three! I promise, if we mess things up, we'll go back in time and stop ourselves from doing this. How 'bout that?"   
"Only if you promise to listen to yourself if your future self comes back to warn you about doing this before you can do it," replied Remus. He paused. "Did that make sense?"   
"Not remotely," said Sirius. "But I promise anyway. So... Shall we try it?"   
James looked at Remus. "Why not?" he said. "Could be interesting."   
"James..."   
"Honestly, Moony, we won't try anything dangerous."   
Remus bit his lip. "We should use that 'Somebody Else's Problem Charm' before we go," he said.   
"That's the spirit!" said Sirius enthusiastically, "but why the charm?"   
"So we don't get accidentally noticed by anyone in the future unless we want to," said James. "Sounds like a great idea. And we should keep this first trip simple. No big 'let's change history' plans. Nothing we can really mess up."   
"So what time do we want to go to? How far?" said Sirius, as Remus administered Somebody Else's Problem charms. (The Somebody Else's Problem charm is stronger than the average distraction charm. It works best on people, and tricks the mind into totally ignoring, rather than simply not seeing, the charmed object, unless the mind is told specifically what to look (or listen) for and is aware of the charm. Very useful for group mischief.)   
"How about here, in about twenty-five years?" suggested Peter.   
"What good would that do?" asked Sirius. "Things don't change much here."   
"One of us might have kids here. Or maybe all of us will. It might be fun, and we can't hurt anything." said Peter.   
"We could at least teach a few of our trademark tricks to future students. Maybe spread nasty tales of teachers' pasts, especially if we know them as students." James smiled evilly. "Sounds like fun."   
"I suppose it does," said Remus, sounding tired. "When do we go?" he asked Sirius.   
"Now, if you like," said Sirius with a shrug. "Twenty-five years, did you say? That would be, what, 1995? And we can even return at the time we left, and we won't age a bit. Quite a charm, don't you think?" He gazed lovingly at his handiwork. James threw an arm about his shoulder.   
"Yes, Padfoot, quite a charm. Now let's get to it!"   
As Sirius prepared to finish the charm with an incantation, Peter stopped him. "But how do we get back to this time?" he asked.   
"Easy," said Sirius. "I say the incantation again."   
"Assuming you got the spell exactly right," said Remus.   
"Of course he has. He even did research," said James. "Nothing's going to go wrong."   
And Sirius said the incantation.   
The common room seemed to flicker a moment, but besides the sudden disappearance of Sirius' circle, and a rearrangement of the logs on the Common room fire, nothing seemed to change.   
"Very impressive," said Remus sarcastically. "Nice trick with the fire."   
"It should have worked..." said Sirius slowly. "I'm sure it worked."   
"Of course it worked!" said James. "Look!" He pointed to a copy of the Daily Prophet, laying on a table.   
Peter picked it up. "Wow..." he said, scanning the headlines. "See the date?"   
Sirius looked over his shoulder and grinned. "What d'you know... 3 October 1995! Exactly twenty-five years!" He passed the paper to James and Remus.   
"He's right," said James, grinning. "We're in the future."   
"So where is everyone?" said Peter.   
"In bed, like normal people are at 3 AM," replied Sirius.   
"How do you know its 3 AM?" Peter asked.   
"The charm probably sent us exactly twenty-five years into the future," said James, "not 'twenty-five years and some odd hours' or 'twenty-five years give or take a week.' Am I right, Padfoot?"   
"That you are, Prongs. Which is why its also still October 3rd. Or 4th, by now. And we have time to take a nap before facing this brave new world." Sirius stretched out in one of the squashy armchairs. "Still comfortable!"   
"I was thinking that a corner might be better," said James. "Someone might sit on you."   
"That doesn't mean they'll notice me," returned Sirius, folding his hands behind his head.   
"No, but I can't imagine it would be terribly comfortable," said James. "Some whale-sized seventh-year might snap your bony self in half."   
"'Bony self'? You should talk, Mr. I-Can-Hide-Behind-My-Broom-If-I-Turn-Sideways." said Sirius, but he got out of the chair. After further discussion, they hid themselves in the secret passageway behind a mirror on the fourth floor and waited until morning. 

***** 

The Great Hall was already filling with students when the four drowsy Marauders snuck in for breakfast. No one noticed the sudden disappearance of a plate of bacon and several pancakes. Sirius also managed to nick a jug of pumpkin juice, and so they made quite a nice breakfast in the corner. They watched the students with interest, guessing and joking about parentage.   
"How about that Hufflepuff?" said James, pointing to a small girl who was probably in her second year. "Melinda Berkey and Calvin Saunders?"   
"Nah, not Saunders," said Sirius. "I was thinking Sean Jacobs."   
"Berkey and Jacobs. I just got the worst image in my head," said Remus. "Though I'm positive that Ravenclaw is a relative of Ryan Adair."   
"Yeah, him and Agatha Kraybill," said James. "Always thought they'd make a cute couple."   
"Sure, after Adair sent you into the lake for flirting with Kraybill," said Sirius.   
"He sent you right afterwards. Nice splash you made," said James.   
"He didn't 'send' me anywhere," protested Sirius. "I jumped."   
"To escape his left hook--" began Remus before he saw something that made his jaw drop. Then he smiled.   
"Remus, what's up?" said James. He followed Remus' gaze and nearly lost his lunch. Or breakfast, as the case was. Peter gasped. Sirius grinned.   
"Who'd have guessed... Wow, James, I'm impressed!"   
A boy of their own age had just entered the hall with two others. He had untidy black hair, glasses, and was very much on the skinny end of things. In other words, he bore an exact resemblance to James, except that his eyes were green, not grey.   
"Oh no..." croaked James, whose stomach had spontaneously decided to twist itself into small knots.   
"C'mon!" said Sirius, jumping up from their place and darting towards the Gryffindor table. "This is too good to miss. I'm going in for a closer look!"   
"Wait! Come back!" James was up in a moment, but Sirius was already standing right behind the look-alike boy, listening in on his conversation. He beckoned to his friends. Remus followed immediately, curious in his own right. Peter and James exchanged glances, Peter shrugged, and they followed as well.   
"...no, Alicia's not on this year. She says she's too busy studying for her NEWTs, so that's a Chaser and a Keeper we need," said the boy. "You could try out, Ron. You'd be brilliant." The red-headed kid beside him, who was obviously a Weasley, shook his head.   
"And have Fred and George sabotoge me at every turn? No thanks."   
"But you love Quidditch!" put in a bushy-haired girl sitting across from them. "I'm sure Fred and George will treat you all right if you're on the team. C'mon, Harry, you're captain. Tell him."   
"Harry?" mouthed James. It wasn't a bad name, but didn't seem to be one he'd choose.   
"Hermione's right, Ron," said Harry. "Fred and George would never miss out on a chance for the Cup. You know that. You've got to try out."   
"That'd be three Weasleys on a team!" added a smaller red-headed girl, also a Weasley. "That'd be great! Mum and Dad would be so proud."   
"There, see? Even Ginny thinks you'll do well," said Harry.   
"I said it'd be great to have three Weasleys. I didn't say he'd do well," said Ginny mischieviously. When Ron shot her a look, she grinned and said, "Kidding, Ron. You'd be a great Chaser, and you know it."   
"All right, all right," said Ron. "If my own sister and the great Harry Potter think I should try out, I will. But you know I haven't got a decent broom."   
Sirius grinned at James over Ron's head. James didn't see it, as he was rather fascinated by the whole thing. This was, indeed, a Potter who was good at Quidditch. Team captain, even. James started to think this was kind of cool.   
"Know what, Sirius?" James said as they followed the Gryffindors out of the Hall.   
"Hm?"   
"When I have kids, I can go around bragging how Harry'll be a Quidditch captain, and if anybody doesn't believe me, I'll know for a fact they'll be proved wrong."   
"Hadn't thought of that," Sirius admitted. "Now I'll know not to bet you on it. By the way, who's the lucky young lady?"   
"I don't know, and I don't want to find out," said James, his expression turning sour. "It would probably ruin the romance, knowing where its going."   
"That," said Remus, chuckling, "is a very good point. Saying you're destined for each other would be one thing..."   
Sirius laughed out loud. "I don't see how you two haven't figured it out already."   
"What do you mean by that, Padfoot?"   
Sirius gave James a great equivalent of a shocked expression. "You mean you can't tell? Spare me from the awful shock that Remus the Infinitely Intelligent and James the Extremely Talented missed it entirely! I mean, come on! Who else in Gryffindor has green eyes?"   
The other three Marauders froze in their tracks, staring at Sirius.   
"Not–" began Remus.   
"–Lily Evans!" finished James, Peter, and Sirius, who was grinning like an idiot.   
"Sirius, I don't think she even realizes I exist!" said James, incredulous. Smart and well-liked, but patently unimpressed by dangerous hijinx, Lily Evans was a Gryffindor prefect with whom James and the other Marauders had absolutely nothing to do with. She ignored them. They ignored her. It was a very efficient system.   
"Perhaps not, but you can't ignore the eyes," said Sirius dangerously.   
"Carmen Arenas has green eyes: it could be her," suggested James, finding no other possible escape.   
"Carmen Arenas is four years younger than you, Jimmykins," said Sirius.   
"You went out with that first year, Mandy Bucket," said James.   
"Amanda Bouquet is very mature for her age," said Sirius defensively.   
"Yeah, and she has a very nice–" began Remus, but Sirius elbowed him. "What?" said Remus, "You said it yourself: 'She has a great–'"   
"Will you two adolescents get your minds out of the gutter!" yelled James, exasperated. "Everyone's going to class. Do you want to follow, or snoop out more of the school?"   
"Why would we want to follow anybody?" said Peter. "It'll just be our regular classes."   
"We can see who's teaching," explained James.   
"And make fun of them behind their backs," added Sirius brightly. "Let's follow Harry. That's bound to be most interesting."   
"By the way, Sirius," said Remus confidentially as they trailed the Gryffindor fifth years, "I was going to say 'she has a nice sense of humour.'"   
The first class they visited was only Transfiguration, where they were not surprised to find that McGonagall was not only teaching, but that it seemed they were on the very same lesson on October 4, 1995 as they would have been on October 4, 1970. Remus actually considered taking notes until he noticed the dangerous gleam in James' eyes as he watched McGonagall go on about advanced interspecies transformations.   
"An idea, my dear Prongs?" inquired Sirius, raising an eyebrow.   
"What else would it be, a haddock?" replied James, his gaze following McGonagall's every move. "Remember, my fellow Marauders, what we wrote on the blackboard with Re-Appearing Chalk last year?"   
"Oh, you mean the one about "It takes more than-Mmph!" Peter found himself suddenly muffled by Sirius' hand, but the other Marauders had already started sniggering with mirth at the memory.   
"Prongs," admonished Remus, "You know we never repeat the same prank twice. McGonagall would recognize it."   
"The Scholarly Moony," said James, incredulous, "has forgotten a very important part of this adventure. It's this: we're twenty-five years into the future! Can you imagine the déja-vu she's going to get from this?"   
"Ah, but Remus has a point," put in Sirius. "What if Harry's already pulled that prank, or one very like it?"   
James, for about the tenth time that day, flinched ever-so-slightly at the mention of Harry. "I guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?" He got up and set off resolutely for the front of the class. But when he got there, he didn't write anything right away. Unable to avoid the temptation, he did a few extremely convincing McGonagall impressions behind her back first. The other Marauders had quite a time covering their laughter. McGonagall might get suspicious if she realised she was raising her voice to be heard over laughter that a spell was trying to keep her from noticing. Finishing off the routine with a ghostly image of large cat-ears conjured to hover over McGonagall's head for a moment, James finally picked up a piece of chalk, faced the board, and wrote his comment with a flourish. He turned and bowed, and marched off to the back of the room, removing any vestiges of the Somebody Else's Problem charm from obscuring the students' view of the board.   
"Bravo! Bravo! Brilliant!" applauded Sirius as James sat next to him, grinning.   
"Now, let the show begin," said Remus, leaning back with his hands behind his head, and they waited patiently for someone to notice what they'd done.   
There was a sudden choke from the other side of the room, courtesy of Dean Thomas, who promptly tried to disappear under his desk lest he laugh aloud. Three other Gryffindors looked his way and saw his right hand still on top of the desk, pointing shakily at the board. James watched Harry glance up at the board, clap a hand to his mouth, and jab Ron with an elbow to show him what was going on. Remus started a countdown.   
"Five... four... three... two..."   
The class erupted into gales of laughter. Dean had re-emerged from his refuge and had his head thrown back, laughing uncontrollably. Ron was pounding his desk, and Harry had tears running down his cheeks, barely able to keep himself upright in his seat. Lavender and Parvati had collapsed in hysterical giggles, Neville at first had a sort of wild, terrified grin on his face before he gave up on dignity and laughed himself silly. Seamus had actually fallen out of his chair and didn't seem to mind at all that his books had fallen on top of him. Only Hermione was scandalised, staring at the board with wide eyes, though it became evident that she, too, was trying not to laugh, her face turning an interesting shade of purple with the effort.   
At the commencement of such hysteria, McGonagall spun about to see what was going on. She took one look at the board and gasped, then shut her mouth again, her lips becoming an impossibly thin line. With a wave of her wand, she erased the offending statement from the board and turned a steely eye on her class, which had dissolved into uncontrollable hysteria. The Marauders were quite glad when her withering gaze passed over them completely; they were still laughing too hard.   
"Enough of this!" she commanded, but no one heard her.   
"Stop this at once!" They still didn't hear her.   
"I said, ENOUGH!"   
They heard her. Neville gave out a nervous squeak of a giggle. There was silence for about two seconds, at the end of which, every student in the room suddenly recalled what they'd been laughing about, and started laughing again. After a moment, McGonagall reached the end of her rope and threatened detentions for a month on them all if they didn't quit. It worked.   
"As amusing as such a statement must surely seem to you all," she said sternly, "such things are not to be tolerated in a classroom. I advise the student who wrote it to admit his infraction immediately, and I may be merciful."   
But no one admitted it. Now rather intimidated, the students kept quiet and glanced from person to person, silently asking the same question: who did it? No one had left their seats. McGonagall would have noticed. After a few more threats, McGonagall acknowledged that the whole thing was pointless for the time being, and dismissed the class. It was only much later when she realised why the comment had seemed so familiar. Had Harry's godfather been teaching him old school tricks?   
The four Marauders followed the still-giggling class out of the castle, quickly realising that the next class was Care of Magical Creatures. And they were positively dumbstruck when they saw who was teaching.   
"That isn't-" started James.   
"Couldn't be-" stuttered Sirius.   
"What do you know?" said Remus. "It's Hagrid!"   
"Can you imagine? Hagrid teaching Care of Magical Creatures?" said James in wonder. "With his idea of harmless creatures, this ought to be more than interesting."   
"Hope he isn't trying to raise Augureys again," remarked Sirius.   
He wasn't, and in fact, the class was an extremely interesting one involving a treefull of clabberts. The students had a lot of fun feeding them, though the Marauders saw that it was a class combined with the Slytherins, and that the Slytherins were doing quite a bit to disrupt things. Especially a blonde boy whom they were all quite sure was the son of Lucius Malfoy. "Seems you're not the only one with a carbon copy, James," remarked Sirius as he tugged ever-so-slightly on the tail of a clabbert that the younger Malfoy was trying to feed. Surprised and enraged, the clabbert immediately attacked Malfoy, nearly clawing his eyes out. The Marauders laughed and the Gryffindors cheered as Malfoy wrestled with the clabbert, trying to extricate it from his face. He eventually succeeded, throwing the little monkeyish creature halfway to the lake in his anger. But when he started threatening Hagrid with his father's wrath, Hagrid just shot him a knowing look and said he always wondered what Malfoy would look like as a parakeet. That shut Malfoy up instantly.   
"Wonder what that was about?" said Peter, seeing the suppressed rage in Malfoy's pale face, and the way the Gryffindors had started snickering.   
"No idea," said Sirius. "But now Hagrid's got me curious. What would a Malfoy look like as a parakeet?"   
After an excellent lunch, the highlight of the day promised to be Potions when the Marauders discovered who was teaching. They entered the dungeon behind the Gryffindors and the Slytherins to find it quite empty. Everyone took their seats and waited. James noted that everyone was a minute or two early, and that several of the Gryffindors looked mildly apprehensive to be in the class. "Must be a new teacher," observed Remus. Sirius agreed. "Freese never minded when we were late."   
The door creaked open. Four Marauder jaws dropped to the ground as they all recognized the teacher.   
"Oh, no," said Peter. "It can't be."   
"Ah, but it is," said Sirius in an odd voice.   
"Certainly didn't age well, did he?" remarked James, cocking his head to one side. They stared at the elder Snape in disbelief. He was even uglier than they remembered.   
"You would think," said Remus after a moment, "that they'd require all Hogwarts teachers to wash their hair once in a while." James, Sirius, and Peter all looked at the observant werewolf for a minute before bursting into hysterics.   
They were rather less amused to see that Snape was most unfair towards the Gryffindors. When Snape took five points from Gryffindor for a botched potion by (who else?) Neville, James came very close to dropping a dungbomb he had in his pocket into Snape's own cauldron. Remus held him back. "He'd probably blame it on a Gryffindor," he said.   
"Lousy git..." muttered Sirius, fingering his own stash of dungbombs. "Don't see why Dumbledore would hire his kind."   
"Oh, don't worry," said James. "We'll let him have it before we get back."   
"And let him have it good," Sirius agreed. "Something so the whole school can view him in a completely new light."   
"Or a new wardrobe," James added.   
"Did I ever tell you that you two scare me?" said Remus.   
"Did you hear that, James? We scare a werewolf!" exclaimed Sirius, looking quite pleased.   
"Are you kidding?" said James, "Sirius, you'd put a Chimaera off its lunch."   
Divination was last, but when the Marauders realized where the Gryffindor fifth-years were heading, they returned to the common room, slipping in after a gaggle of second-years. They needed to do a serious bit of talking. 


	2. Introductions

Chapter 2 Some Things are Better Left Unknown

fanfic by A. Giesbrecht

"For in much Wisdom there is much Grief, and he that increaseth Knowledge increaseth Pain" --Ecclesiastes 1:18, KJV 

--Chapter 2: Harry's Dream Team, Meet the Marauders-- 

Safely inside the Gryffindor common room, after a most unusual day, the Marauders staked out a deserted corner near the portrait hole to do a serious bit of talking.   
"For being a day in which we didn't actually do schoolwork, this has been most educational," said James. "At least, I learned a lot."   
"Besides discovering that you'll eventually have a kid who looks just like you? You could pass for identical twins!" said Sirius with an evil grin.   
"That is simply downright weird," said James, poking at the rug for emphasis. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes. "He's Quidditch captain, even."   
"Harry isn't exactly like you, James," said Remus. "Quieter, less mischievous."   
"I noticed that, too," said Sirius, looking distinctly disappointed. "Must be from his mother's side. Pity. Wonder if he's got any siblings. Eh, Prongs?"   
"Like I'd know," snorted James.   
"I wonder if any other students are related to us," mused Peter, observing a few sixth-years discussing Arithmancy at one of the tables.   
"Neville's surname was Longbottom, Wormtail," said Sirius.   
"He didn't seem a bit like Frank," said Remus. "You'd never guess he was a Head Boy's son. Perhaps heritage is the only reason he's in Gryffindor."   
"Or the Sorting Hat knows something we don't," said James.   
"You never know, do you?" said Sirius. "Look at dear Peter here. I could have sworn he'd end up in Hufflepuff."   
"Thanks a lot, Padfoot," said Peter sourly.   
"You know I only pick on those I love, Wormtail," said Sirius sweetly.   
"In which case, you have a very unhealthy crush on Snape," said James, grinning. Sirius socked him in the shoulder, so James smacked him upside the skull. Sirius then launched himself at James, putting him in a headlock, accidently catching Remus' robes, and earning him a kick in the knee out of Remus' indignation. Thus ensued a long and spirited brawl that ended only when the Gryffindor fifth years entered the room. The Marauders untangled themselves, realising then that in their zeal, they'd missed supper. They didn't mind. Not if the kitchens were still behind the painting of fruit in the dungeons. They made good use of this knowledge, and when they returned, (after wreaking havoc in a girls' toilet, just for old times' sake) the Common Room was empty, save for (amazingly enough) Harry himself, doing homework by the fire. They watched him in silence for a while.   
"So," said James, sticking his hands in his pockets, "What do you think would be the best way to tell him?"   
"Tell who what?" said Peter.   
"Harry," said James, "Tell him we're here. Let him in on the charm."   
"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" asked Remus. "We've been pretty harmless so far. Actually having contact with a future person could cause a lot of problems."   
"No one came back in time to warn us not to do this," said Sirius. "And I want to see the look on Harry's face when he figures out who we are. It'll be priceless."   
"That it will," said James. "So what would be the best way? Write it on parchment and give it to him?"   
"Sounds good to me," said Sirius.   
They actually stole some of Harry's own parchment and a spare quill to write the message. That was one major advantage of the Somebody Else's Problem Charm: one could do things right under people's noses and they'd never notice until too late. James tried several drafts before settling on his message, and the other three made various (and not always helpful) suggestions. When they were all reasonably satisfied, James deposited the message on Harry's textbook. Harry didn't pay it any mind it at first, and made to move it out of the way when he realized what it was. This is what it said: 

_Harry--_

_First, do not do anything until you've finished reading this note. Otherwise, everything will be ruined._   
_Second, some old friends and family of yours have cast a very complex charm and are awaiting your opinion. When you are finished reading this note, look up and to your right. There are four new but strangely familiar fifth-years sitting in the armchair on your right. One of them is waving. They will explain everything, even if it takes all night._

The Marauders watched with bated breath as Harry read the note twice over. Then, looking thoroughly confused and trying to remember where he'd seen that handwriting before, he looked up and around at them. Sirius waved furiously, and Harry nearly fell out of his chair from shock. His mouth wagged soundlessly as his gaze shifted from one Marauder to the next, finally settling on James, who was turning pink.   
"Sorry for the surprise. We can explain everything," he said hurridly.   
"You're--" began Harry, but he didn't seem to be able to put in words what he was seeing.   
"James Potter," said James, by way of introduction. "And this is Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew."   
"I--I know--I mean,--I--I've met--" Harry stammered, took a breath, and tried another tack. "How?"   
"Sirius," said Peter, as if this explained everything. It would have, had he been addressing another Marauder, or indeed, anyone from their time at Hogwarts.   
"Its a charm," said Sirius, shrugging. "Sends you through time. Spent three years researching it, and this is our first go. Pretty cool, huh?"   
Harry stared at him open-mouthed for a few seconds before closing his eyes, collapsing into a chair, taking off his glasses, and covering his face with his hands. "This is unbelievable. Completely, totally..."   
"...ridiculous," finished James, sitting down across from him. "Yeah, I know. But that's Sirius for you. To tell the truth, I'm surprised he could actually do it, you know? ... We just came to this time to see how Hogwarts would change in twenty-five years. We weren't expecting you."   
"We _were_ hoping..." began Remus before trailing off. "Anyway, are you the only one?"   
"Only one what?" murmured Harry from behind his hands.   
"Only one here with a Marauder for a parent," explained Remus. "Personally, I doubt it."   
Harry put his glasses back on and looked around at him all. "No, I think I'm it," he said, his voice strangely thick.   
"Really?" said James, taken aback. "You mean Sirius and Remus and Peter... why wouldn't they have families by now?" Peter nodded his agreement emphatically.   
"It's... kind of a long story," said Harry, obviously unwilling to say more. "How long have you been here?" he asked, "Why haven't I noticed you?"   
"We've been here since early this morning," said James, "And you didn't notice because of something clever Remus dug up."   
"Of course it's clever," said Sirius. "Remus' that kind of guy."   
"Its known as a Somebody Else's Problem Charm," said Remus, sitting down next to James. "The story is that someone got the idea from a Muggle science-fiction book, and the theory is not to make something invisible or inaudible, but to make people simply ignore it. Its a kind of highly concentrated super-specific distraction charm. You can't see us unless you know about the charm, or know where to look."   
"Oh," said Harry, more out of weariness than genuine understanding.   
"We've been following you around all day," said Peter.   
"Don't tell him that!" said Sirius, "It'll make him paranoid."   
"We have, though," admitted James with a shrug, "and sat in on some of your classes. We saw McGonagall hasn't changed a bit."   
"No, probably not," agreed Harry. "Wait. Did one of you--"   
"Write on the blackboard?" said Sirius. "That was James. What did you think?"   
"_You_ wrote that?" exclaimed Harry in astonishment, staring wide-eyed at James.   
James grinned. "None other," he said proudly. "I wonder if she recognized it."   
"I'd think it would be awfully hard to forget," said Harry, finally smiling himself. "At least I won't for awhile. I thought McGonagall was going to have a fit. Where did you get it?"   
"Made it up himself, he did," said Sirius. "He's done it before, of course, twenty-six years ago. Got detention for a month, didn't you Prongs?"   
"It was worth every minute," said James fondly. He paused, and looked at Harry curiously. "You _do_ know about our nicknames, don't you?"   
"Yeah, of course," said Harry. "Sirius is Padfoot, Pr--I mean, _Remus_ is Moony, and Peter..." he hesitated. "Peter is Wormtail."   
"Exactly!" said Sirius. "And do you know where we got those nicknames?"   
"Sure," said Harry. "You're all Animagi. Except for Remus." Remus looked troubled until Harry said, "Its alright. I don't mind that you're a werewolf."   
"Yes, but, what were you about to call him?" said Sirius.   
"Nothing," said Harry quickly, realizing that he'd have to be careful not to break any news to these four in the wrong way. A tempting thought occured to him. What would happen if he told them everything? He could warn them! He could change--change what? Could he prevent his parent's death? Wormtail's betrayal? Sirius' imprisonment? Voldemort's return? But the only reason Voldemort fell the first time was because of his mother's sacrifice... Confused, he decided to let the matter be for awhile.   
"Something wrong?" asked James. He and the other Maruaders exchanged curious glances, noticing the flurry of emotions that had just fled across Harry's face. He'd gone suddenly quiet. But then he only shrugged, and smiled again.   
"Wait 'till I tell Ron and Hermione!" he said, "You don't mind, do you?"   
"That redhead and the bookworm? Not at all," said Sirius.   
"But not too many people," warned Remus.   
"Wouldn't want to cause too much of a stir," said James. "It would be easier if you could introduce them to us somewhere private. Otherwise, someone else might figure out the charm. They'll see you, of course, and might notice who you're talking to."   
"Got it," said Harry. "Wait here a minute: I'll get Ron, and I think Hermione's in the library." He bounded up the dormitory stairs and dissappeared from sight. The Marauders watched him go.   
"Nice kid, Prongs," said Sirius. James smacked him. 

"But Harry, that's impossible!" Hermione had to jog to keep up with her long-legged friend as they navigated the many halls of Hogwarts on the way to a deserted dungeon. Harry had just finished telling her what was going on and they and Ron were meeting the Marauders in a room they knew of that was both private and generally forgotton. "Travelling through time is immensely difficult! There's no way any old fifth year could do it."   
"Since when was Sirius Black 'any old fifth year'?" returned Harry. "They all got away with becoming Animagi right under Dumbledore's nose, didn't they?"   
"Yes, but--" Hermione gestured futilely, trying to come up with another argument. Truth be told, she didn't really doubt Harry, she just couldn't reconcile the idea of a Hogwarts student figuring out such complex spells on his own.   
"And you heard McGonagall and Flitwick say Sirius and my dad were some of the brightest kids ever to come to Hogwarts," Harry went on, "And they made the Marauders' Map, for Pete's sake!"   
"Oh, Harry, I just don't know," said Hermione worridly. "What if they found out about--about everything? Imagine what would happen!" Harry gave her a peculiar look, and she caught the meaning immediately. "I guess you've already imagined, haven't you?"   
"You could say that," said Harry quietly.   
"Then you know you mustn't say _anything_," said Hermione. "If they find out... we don't even know exactly why you lived, Harry. If we change anything, it might turn out that you're dead and You-Know-Who is still around!"   
"What, he didn't come back last summer?" Harry said sarcastically.   
Hermione wrung her hands in frustration. "You know what I mean. I hate to be the one to agree with Fudge, but we _did_ have thirteen years of peace, didn't we? Who else would have died in the meantime if You-Know-Who hadn't fallen?"   
That caught Harry up. Before he could answer, though, he saw Ron coming to meet them. "I couldn't find the room," he called, glancing over his shoulder. "Never been this way before."   
"Neither have I," said Harry, "but it can't be hard to find. Listen, Ron, when we get there: don't say too much about what happened between now and twenty-five years ago, all right?"   
Ron laughed grimly. "You mean you don't want me to say, 'Hey Sirius, you know you're gonna spend twelve years in Azkaban'?"   
"Something like that," said Harry. "Don't say anything to my dad, either. Or to Peter--he's still their friend." Ron wrinkled his nose, cursing under his breath, and Hermione did her best not to show equal disgust. "And remember not to call Remus 'Professor Lupin.'"   
"So long as you call your dad 'James' and not 'Dad'," said Ron with a grin. "D'you think they know about your mum?"   
Hermione shook her head. "How could they? They're only fifteen, right, Harry? You don't know who _you're_ going to marry yet, do you Ron?"   
"Good point," said Ron as his ears went pink, and he let the matter drop.   
They walked on for a few minutes in silence, Harry trailing one hand on the stone wall.   
"D--I mean, James--said it would be somewhere here: a hidden door that looks like part of the wall."   
"How do you find it?" asked Ron.   
"By finding the handle," said Harry. "Its invisible, but James said it would be waist-high and... Here!" Harry pulled on what looked like air, and a door appeared out of nowhere, leading to a low, dusty room. "Wait a sec, while I see what's going on." He stepped inside.   
"Hey there!" said Sirius cheerily. "We were beginning to wonder." He and the other Marauders were seated in dusty wooden chairs. Other than that, the room was empty The only light came from shivering silver flames that Remus seemed to be cupping in his hands. Harry realized where he'd seen that trick once before: as Professor Lupin, Remus had used those flames when the lights on the Hogwarts Express had gone out on the way to school two years before.   
"My friends are with me," said Harry, "How do I do this?"   
"Just tell them what to look for," said James.   
Harry took a good look around before turning to Ron and Hermione. "Listen," he said, "I told you about the spell, and how it works. All you have to do is know what to look for."   
They nodded.   
"When you go in, look to your left. Sirius is on the left, Remus in next, then Peter, then James. And Remus is lighting the room with a sort of flame in his hand, the same kind he used on the Hogwarts express when the Dementors came on. Got it?"   
Harry stepped back, and was quite satisfied to hear the barely audible squeak Hermione let out when she saw the Marauders. Ron just grinned. "This is very cool," he said. Harry introduced them, James pulled out his wand and (literally) produced three more chairs, beckoning them to sit.   
"How did you do that?" asked Hermione, staring at James as she took her chair.   
"Oh, you know," said James, waving a casual hand as if shooing a fly. "Just a little bit of advanced transfiguration. Come now, you haven't seen Dumbledore do something like that?"   
"I have--I just--You're only a fifth year!"   
"My dear Hermione, I have _never_ allowed knowledge like that to hinder me in my life-long quest for mastering the most difficult and obscure spells," said James mock-seriously.   
"Besides, its not that hard," added Sirius. James backhanded him.   
"I suppose you've heard all about us," said Remus.   
"Of course!" said Ron. "My twin brothers practically idolize you. The famous Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. They'd probably kill to meet you."   
"We're flattered," said Sirius, "but no human sacrificing, please."   
"Its not good for our image," said James.   
"So you're just... doing this for the fun of it?" asked Hermione timidly, looking very hard at James. She seemed to be trying to figure out some mystery about him.   
"More or less," said James with a shrug.   
"Its an adventure, and a Marauder is always up for a good adventure," said Sirius.   
"Even," said Remus, looking as if he didn't know whether to be proud of the fact, or very ashamed, "if its highly illegal."   
"_Especially_ if its highly illegal," corrected Sirius.   
They talked for a good while, laughing quite a bit as the Marauders told of their various escapades together. They had only recently managed the Animagus spell and were still getting used to their new freedom. Harry, Ron, and Hermione added a few good tales of their own, impressing even Sirius with the story of the flying Ford Anglia. The only thing was, they had to keep catching themselves from telling too much. It wasn't such a bad thing to let them know that Remus would someday be a professor, (James especially was highly amused) but there was so much else that was far too dangerous. Sirius kept asking over and over who James was going to marry, even when James threatened to turn him into a hamster, but Harry held firm. "Even if you guess, I'm not saying."   
"Spoilsport," muttered Sirius.   
Remus decided diplomatically to change the subject. "So, Harry, you play Quidditch?"   
"He's the captain," said Hermione. "He plays seeker, and he's very good at it."   
"Really?" said James, "I'm captain too, but my position is Chaser. Too bad, I could teach you a few moves."   
"James, think. You probably already _have_ taught him a few moves," said Sirius.   
"Oh, right," said James.   
"No, he hasn't," corrected Harry before he could stop himself.   
"Why not?" said Sirius.   
"Its another long story," said Harry quickly in what he hoped was an offhand manner. "A long story" had been his excuse for any slip-ups so far, and it seemed to pacify the Marauders for the time being.   
"What, did he suddenly become very afraid of heights?" guessed Remus.   
"No, he had a horrible accident on his broom ten years ago that explains not only why he no longer flies, but also why Harry is an only child," said Sirius knowledgably.   
"Sirius, that is very sick, and very wrong," said James. "Which may be typical for you, but there are children in the room."   
"We're not any older than you are at the moment," said Harry with a slow and deadly grin. "Besides, Sirius, you don't have any children at all, which, as far as you know, is due to the very reasons you just gave to James."   
"I think not," said Sirius indignantly.   
"Harry, why don't you just call James 'Dad'?" piped up Peter.   
"Because that's more sick and wrong than Sirius' alleged broomstick accident," said Remus.   
"I did _not_ have a broomstick accident!" insisted Sirius.   
"You don't know that," said Ron slyly. Sirius made a move to clobber him, but James held him back.   
Hermione tutted. "Boys!" she exclaimed, clearly annoyed.   
"You know, Sirius, maybe we should have brought Trish along," said James. "Then she and Hermione here could have gone off and discussed... I don't know, make-up."   
"If I had an interest in that sort of thing, maybe I would have been grateful," returned Hermione. "Who's Trish?"   
"Patricia Marsh, Sirius' girlfriend," said Peter simply.   
"She is _not_ my girlfriend," said Sirius, "and if you continue to call her that, I will spike your pumpkin juice with a Frankness Draught from now 'til graduation. It will be ever so interesting when you can no longer prevent yourself from keeping your fascinating private thoughts to yourself."   
James leaned over to Harry and said, "Personally, I think ol' Wormtail hit the nail on the head." Harry and Hermione both nodded.   
Sirius looked James in the eye. "Personally, I think you could do with a nosejob a la Padfoot."   
Remus smiled. "Personally, I think you're all a bunch of great noisy gits."   
"Personally, I'd like to raid the kitchens. I'm hungry," said Peter.   
Remus, Sirius, James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at him. "Wormtail, that was neither clever, nor pertinent to the situation," said James.   
"It was what I was thinking," said Peter.   
They went on talking. When midnight came, Remus performed a Somebody Else's Problem charm on Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and they all snuck quietly back up to Gryffindor Tower. Harry had filled the Marauders in on their schedule the next day, and the Marauders themselves promised a day full of unprecidented fun and general mayhem, followed by some cooperative pranking between the two generations in the evening. They all agreed that the best part would be pulling pranks that hadn't been seen at Hogwarts in decades and giving the staff a serious case of deja-vu.   
Curled up in the corner of the fifth-years' dorm in Gryffindor Tower, James couldn't help but reflect on this "highly educational" day. He found himself glancing continually over at Harry's bed. He couldn't get over how much they were alike, down to the similar prescriptions in eyeglasses. Remus was right, though, Harry wasn't as reckless as James, and he was definitely quieter, but with a little encouragment he had the same sense of humour. But there were other differences. Harry's eyes, for one, thought James. Eye-color wasn't something James usually took note of, but who on earth had eyes that particular shade of green? It was so unusual. Did Harry really inherit it from his mother, the girl James would someday marry? And there were times that Harry fell silent, and something seemed to burden him somehow. Something's wrong here, thought James. Something big has changed between my time and now, 'cause there's something about Harry that shouldn't be, something that he can't help and isn't about to tell us. Almost like Remus, but not. James sighed and decided not to worry about it at the moment. It occurred to him just before he fell asleep that, come morning, he'd like to ask Harry where he got that odd thin scar on his forehead.   
Groaning, Sirius tried to stuff his pillow in his ears. One of the Gryffindors was snoring heartily, and it was getting on his nerves. Odd, he thought, usually it wouldn't bother him. He realized he was tense, and even the Marauders' most daring adventures didn't make him this tense. But this was different. He had a feeling that this whole adventure was starting to turn a little weird; either that or it was about to turn weird. His mum always said he had an affinity for the future--not true divination, but still helpful, though most of the time he couldn't tell if what he felt was something current or coming. He realised he was thinking about how Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all been giving them surrepitous weird looks throughout the evening. Especially Harry. Sirius tried to chalk it all up to the strangeness of seeing one's own father at one's own age, but it didn't work. It was almost as if Harry had never seen James before. Ever. Silly idea, thought Sirius, rolling over and sandwiching his head in the pillow, which drowned out the snoring somewhat. He probably just never realized how much he looked like his dad. They did look a lot alike, Sirius mused, except for the eyes, of course, and that scar.   
Remus, too, had trouble getting to sleep that night. It wasn't the hard floor. He was used to that sort of thing. He was wondering why Harry kept avoiding their questions. Sure, he'd filled them in on the basics of his life: his love of Quidditch, the classes he liked, the broom he owned, his favorite way of torturing his worst enemy. Yet he seemed to pointedly avoid any inquiry about his background or home. It takes a liar to spot one, thought Remus, and after spending a good bit of his life explaining away his monthly dissappearances, he had a knack for picking up on other people's cover-ups. And Harry was definitely covering something up. He wondered vaguely if James or Peter or Sirius had noticed, but decided to wait until morning. And there were always other ways of finding out about people. Sirius might dissagree, but those ways didn't even have to include going through a person's belongings. He just had to ask the right questions in the right ways. At least, thought Remus sleepily, he's not prejudiced against werewolves, but that was probably James' doing a long time ago. He tried to think up some innocuous questions to ask in the morning, but only got as far as "where did you get that scar?" before he fell asleep.   
Peter watched his three best friends fall asleep one by one. He knew Sirius and James and Remus would all just call him paranoid, but he could have sworn Harry, Ron, and Hermione ignored him. Granted, most people usually ignored him, being as small and shy as he was, but these three had every reason to pay him some attention, being from the past and all. Yet they seemed to avoid even looking at him, let alone speaking to him. Well, of course, thought Peter, they're paying all that attention to James because he'll be Harry's dad someday, and Remus was one of their teachers. And Sirius was... Sirius was Sirius, and therefore by definition impossible to ignore. Oh, well, he thought. Maybe I'm just imagining things. He leaned back and put his hands behind his head. Tomorrow would be fun. This would be the first time they had ever had the chance to wreak havoc like they'd always imagined: not only messing around in classes they didn't have to be in, but no one would ever guess they were at Hogwarts at all. He couldn't wait to see what all seven of them together could cook up and didn't doubt that Harry could be as good as James at mischief. He seemed pretty adept at wandering about at night undetected. Peter yawned. Perhaps a wild adventure had been where Harry had got that lightning scar of his. What would cause that, he thought, before drifting off into sleep. 


	3. Pranks, Suspicions, and the Truth

Chapter 3 Some Things are Better Left Unknown

fanfic by A. Giesbrecht

"For in much Wisdom there is much Grief, and he that increaseth Knowledge increaseth Pain" --Ecclesiastes 1:18, KJV 

--Chapter 4: Pranks, Suspicions, and the Truth-- 

Collapsing in the privacy of the little stone dungeon room they'd used for three nights now, four Marauders plus three more laughed until they couldn't breathe. It wasn't just the grasshoppers in Malfoy's soup, it wasn't just Snape's wonderful new hairstyle, and it certainly wasn't just all the seventh-year girls who were now barricaded in the hospital wing waiting to have their tails removed, it was the fact that they'd got away so cleanly. Well, then again, maybe it was all the funny sights they'd been treated to in the last 72 hours, not the least of which was the look on Filch's face when he realized Mrs. Norris had been turned into a pink eraser. Of course, McGonagall had turned the skeletal grey cat right back to her usual form, but it had certainly been worth it.   
And no one suspected anything. At least, no one suspected that the Marauders were the culprits, returning from a long sabbatical to work their own brand of magic upon Hogwarts yet again. No one could possibly suspect Harry, Hermione, or Ron, since a number of the incidents occurred in impossible places while they were behaving themselves in class. Yet all seven of them rightly guessed that at that very moment, a number of the teachers were getting headaches discussing how on earth such trademark pranks as James' written comment in Transfiguration could possibly reappear after so long. It just made it all the funnier.   
"You have... got... to teach us... some of those!" gasped Harry, trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard. "Just seeing Trelawney with those... those..."   
"Ears?" provided James, causing them all to collapse into hysteria again.   
When Remus had calmed down enough, he explained, "Maddy Hartford gave us the idea when she made us watch Muggle television on holiday. There was an American program, a science fiction, and one character had these pointy ears..." Feeling too silly to keep up his usual dignity, Remus mimed the look with his hands. Harry snorted with laughter.   
"And we simply improved upon the design," finished Sirius.   
Hermione giggled, wiping tears from her eyes. "I've seen that show..." she said weakly. "If I laugh any harder, I think I'll burst. But did you have to do that to Snape?"   
"What, you have something against bleached-blonds?" inquired James innocently.   
"Poor git," said Ron with no trace of any real remorse, "He'll never live that down."   
"He didn't the first time," said Sirius.   
After a moment's pause, Harry spoke up, rather serious. "When are you going back? I don't mean this hasn't been fun, and all..."   
"It should be soon," said Remus after some thought.   
"Moony--" groaned Sirius, rolling his eyes.   
"No, listen," said James. "He's right. Dumbledore is far from thick: he'll figure this out eventually, even if it doesn't seem possible. We should go back before we get Harry and the rest of you in trouble. Time travel is slightly more than illegal, you know."   
"Not any more than being unregistered Animagi," pointed out Sirius.   
"Yes, but also slightly easier to be caught doing," James returned.   
Sirius grunted. "So far I'm outnumbered. What about you, Wormtail?"   
Peter shrugged. "James is right, I think. And we _have_ had our fun."   
James grinned. "No argument there."   
"Tomorrow morning, then," said Remus. "If we're going back to the same time we left, I'd at least like to get a good night's sleep, since we'll be returning to 3 AM."   
"Well, if you don't mind, then," said Ron, standing up and stretching. "I'm going to bed. All this fun is wearing me out."   
"Aw," said Sirius with a sort of sappy puppy-dog look, "Poor widdle Ronniekins can't handle all the excitement!"   
"Bugger off," said Ron absently. "How 'bout you, Harry?"   
"No bugging off here, thank you," said Harry with a grin, "But I've got some Charms homework to finish. How about the rest of you?"   
"Same here," said Hermione, standing up with Harry. James almost volunteered to help when Sirius shot him a very meaningful look.   
"We'll stay here and talk awhile," said Sirius, "About going home, you know, and all that."   
Harry shrugged, and he and his friends left. When the door snicked shut, James turned on Sirius.   
"Something up, Padfoot?"   
"My, you're quick," said Sirius sarcastically. "What took you?"   
"What on earth do you mean?" said James, taken aback.   
"Am I the only one who noticed anything odd these past few days?" Sirius asked, glaring 'round at them all.   
"Besides the fact that we're twenty five years into the future?" said Remus.   
Sirius ignored him. "Don't you think its odd that we haven't learned a thing about what happens to us in the future?" he said.   
"Not really," said Remus. "I can't imagine it would be a good idea, and Harry realises that. Like telling James who his wife will be--it just wouldn't be good."   
"There seems to be a lot more to it than that," said Sirius stubbornly.   
"You know, Padfoot, I think you're right," said James slowly. "I thought it was just me."   
"But it isn't, is it?" said Sirius. "I noticed it too. Little things. I mean, would it be so bad if Harry or one of them told us what we would be doing with ourselves? A career choice is rather different from a love life."   
"Like you'd know about either," said James with a grin, but before Sirius could sock him, he held up his hands and added, "But I know what you mean."   
"Well I, quite frankly, don't," said Remus flatly. "What would he be hiding?"   
"I don't know, Remus, why don't you tell us?" sniped Sirius. "You're the one who knows all about hiding things. Why haven't you noticed that dear Harrykins has been keeping something from us all this time, and that it definitely isn't his mother's identity?"   
"Or, I take it, your broomstick incident," added Remus.   
"I did _not_ have a broomstick incident!" yelled Sirius, finally losing his temper.   
"Shut up, both of you!" said James. "Sirius, we all know very well you didn't have a broomstick incident. And Remus, Sirius is right. Something here is definitely up." Remus folded his arms defensively.   
"If you can give me more evidence than just 'a funny feeling', I'd like to hear it," he said.   
"All right, evidence," said Sirius, thinking. "Like, Harry knowing none of our pranks."   
"I have an idea that teaching pranks to one's friends and passing them on to one's son are rather different," said Remus. "Or maybe James just won't want Harry breaking his record for Most Detentions Ever Acquired by a Single Hogwarts Student."   
"Yeah, but one of you might have gone and corrupted him anyway," said James. "But that's not the only thing. The way he looks at me. I get this funny feeling, like he's never, well, I don't know--"   
"--seen you before," finished Peter. "Right?"   
"Exactly," said James. "Like he's never seen me in person, never really talked to me."   
"Though it _could_ be just seeing you his own age for once," admitted Sirius, "But I get the feeling that's not it."   
"There's that feeling of yours again," said Remus. "What else?"   
"He never talks about home," said Sirius, ignoring the comment. "He never mentions siblings. That's another thing: he said he's the only one at Hogwarts with a Marauder for a parent. Why? In all this time, why didn't any of us have kids? I mean, I admit it, I like Patricia. Maybe I won't marry her, but I like to think I'll marry *someone* someday. At least one of us would, right?"   
"You mean besides James," said Remus. "Though you have to wonder who would marry a werewolf."   
"Maddy might," said James, smiling not unkindly.   
"Thanks for the thought," said Remus, and he put his chin in his hand, thinking. "You do have a point there, about no other kids, I mean. But he does have the cloak and that Map."   
"Yes, but nothing else," said James, "No pictures on his bedside table, nothing else that looks like it came from the Potter estate. I would bet you that if I asked him for the password to the family vault, he wouldn't know. And more than that, think of the things we've told him that surprised him. I don't think he knew Sirius and I played Chasers at Quidditch. You'd think he'd have heard that before now."   
"Now _that_ is a very good point," conceded Remus. He sighed and shrugged. "I admit I thought he was hiding something, but I couldn't put my finger on it."   
"I still can't," said James. "Think we should ask him?"   
"Yeah," said Peter, "and I want to ask him about that scar."   
"What?" said James, though he knew what Peter meant.   
"You know," said Peter, tracing a line on his own forehead. "That odd lightning scar. I want to know what hit him right there that couldn't heal."   
Sirius immediately got a very strange shiver up his spine. "We should definitely ask him what's up," said Sirius, "Even if he still can't tell us everything, the least he could do is tell us _why_."   
Nodding in agreement, the Marauders left the little dungeon room and made their way back up to Gryffindor Tower, discussing in quiet whispers the best way to get the truth out of Harry. 

Gryffindor Tower was crowded with students, and the Marauders noticed with amusement that most of them were discussing the recent spate of interesting events. Ron's twin brothers seemed to have been taking notes, and were now trying to figure out how to copy the different hexes. Sirius made a mental note to pass on some of the better ones to them, via Ron, just so their graduation could be that much more interesting.   
They ascended the stairs to Harry's dormitory, and as they neared it, they caught sounds of a heated argument, apparently between Harry and Ron. Neville Longbottom was ahead of them on the stairs, and when they came to the door, Dean Thomas motioned for Neville to stay away. "Something's wrong with those two," he said, "We might want to stay away for a bit."   
"You don't think _they're_ the ones doing all those pranks?" said Neville.   
"No way, we were all in Divination together when Goyle turned into a rabbit, remember?" said Dean. James had to suppress a snigger. Dean and Neville descended the stairs again, and the Marauders leaned in to listen, trying to find out what Harry and Ron were on about. Whatever it was, it was noisy. They had no problem hearing the heated argument going on inside.   
"So what are you going to do Harry?" yelled Ron, sounding like he'd asked this question several times already. "Are you going to tell them? You think you can just fix things like that?"   
"Maybe I will," said Harry, quieter but with deadly anger. "You seem to think something horrible will happen if I do. What could be worse than this? What could be worse than going home every summer to people that hate me? What could be worse than growing up alone, with people who think you're deformed or something? Do you know how the Dursleys think of magic? They call it my 'abnormality!' What could be worse than that? What could be worse than spending ten years in a cupboard watching your cousin get spoiled rotten, all the while wondering what its like to have real parents that love you? I've never had family! Ever! But of course, you wouldn't understand, you're not an orphan!"   
Stunned silence followed this tirade, both inside the room and out. James realised that, for the first time in his life, he just might faint. Sirius, Remus and Peter all stared at him, wide-eyed and disbelieving. It couldn't be possible, it just couldn't!   
"James..." began Sirius, but the row in the dormitory wasn't over.   
"Look, Harry, I'm sorry about your family. You know I am," said Ron, somewhat subdued. "But really, what are you gonna tell them: 'Hey James, guess what, one of your friends is going to sell your life for his'?"   
The Marauders were further thunderstruck. James lost all feeling in his legs, stumbled, and Peter had to catch him from falling.   
"Well, no, but--" said Harry.   
"You heard Hermione, didn't you?" Ron went on, regaining confidence, "No one knows exactly what happened that night. What if they die anyway, just a few years later? What if you die too? Dad says the Dark Lord could break all kinds of enchantments at the height of his powers, you think the charm protecting you all would have lasted forever? You told me yourself he finally got through the one that saved your life."   
"Look, I don't care!" yelled Harry. "I can't just say nothing! Its not just my dad, either. Its everything that happened to Sirius, too. We can stop that! We can change everything! This is my chance!"   
"Yeah, well, forget it," said Ron, "Because if you go out there and tell them, then I'm gonna be right behind with Memory Charms, because there's just as much a chance you'll die if they go home knowing."   
"You try, and I'll Stun you," hissed Harry. "You don't understand!"   
"Maybe I don't!" returned Ron, "But I'll never forgive myself if you die because of this. Think about it for once: how many more people would've died? Maybe not you, maybe not your parents, but maybe my mum and dad, or my brothers, or Ginny, or me? Or Hermione? Doesn't You-Know-Who have a personal vendetta against Muggle-borns? She'd be dead meat!"   
It seemed that Harry was brought up short. After a moment, though, as the Marauders were all desperately trying to work out what was going on, Harry said, rather quietly, "I can't just say nothing, Ron. He's my _dad_."   
"Yeah, well, you better try," said Ron, not entirely unkindly.   
Harry's voice cracked as he went on. "This... these past three days... I've never had this much fun in my life. I finally know my dad. I don't really have any memories of him, except for what I heard with the Dementors. When they leave, that'll be it."   
"At least now you have _that,_" said Ron. "Oi, I sound like my mum!" There was the sound of footsteps coming towards the door, but no Marauder moved away, they were were frozen to the spot.   
"Where're you going?" said Harry, suspicious.   
"To find them," said Ron, opening the door. "It's getting late."   
He found them all right. There they were: a very pale James, a thunderstruck Sirius, a livid Remus, and a shivering Peter, all standing just outside the door. Turning brilliant red before going paper-white, Ron looked like he was trying to say something, but the something was dead in his throat. Behind him, Harry got up off his four-poster where he'd been sitting and realized what was going on.   
"Oh, no..." he said, going very pale himself and sitting back down again. He buried his face in his hands.   
"Is it... is it true?" whispered Sirius in a shaky voice.   
Harry only buried himself further in his hands, while Ron stepped back automatically to let them in.   
"We heard... a lot of it," said Remus, very quietly, coming in and sitting down next to Harry on the four-poster, "at least, starting with that bit about being an orphan. That's not true, is it, Harry?"   
There was a long time where no one said anything. Harry made no move, and Ron just stared off into space. The Marauders exchanged panicked glances, while James, leaning against one of the walls for support, wondered if he was going to be sick.   
Finally, Ron croaked, "Yeah, it's true." He closed the dormitory door at last, moving stiffly, and sat down on his own bed. James swallowed whatever it was that had knotted up his throat, gathered his courage, and sat on Harry's other side. Not really sure what to do next, he put a hand on Harry's back.   
"Look," he said, "I'm sorry." Harry finally brought his head up, staring back at James with tearstained eyes.   
"You didn't do anything," he muttered.   
"How did it happen?" asked Peter timidly, he and Sirius sitting on the bed across from Harry's. Harry shot him a startled glance that made Peter jump. Harry sighed, choking back tears.   
"If I told you," he said, and paused, wondering how to say the rest of it.   
"Worse things might happen?" suggested Remus.   
"Right cheerful, aren't you?" said Sirius sarcastically, glaring at him. "Harry, if you tell us, maybe we could change things."   
"That's just it!" exploded Harry, flinging out his hands so that both James and Remus had to duck. "If you knew what happened, if things changed, maybe I would get you back, James. I want that more than anything. I've wanted it my whole life. But there's loads more to it."   
"Like what?" said James, trying to keep his voice steady, and failing miserably. He'd never been this upset in his life, never been without control before, and with good reason. He'd simply never been this scared.   
Harry looked at each one of them in turn before asking, "Have you ever heard of Voldemort?"   
"Wait," said Sirius, wrinkling his nose as he thought, "Isn't he that nutter behind all those murders?"   
"He's not just a nutter, he's a--wha'd'you call it--a megolomaniac," said Ron from his bed. "And most people, except for Dumbledore and ol' Harry here, call him 'You-Know-Who'."   
Harry nodded. "Its been years since he fell and people are still afraid. We hear about it once in awhile in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He invented curses and made use of ones no one had seen in centuries. He could break through all sorts of wards. No one could stop him. Dumbledore was the only wizard he was afraid of.   
"He killed all the best wizards and witches because they stood against him, and he killed loads of Muggles for the fun of it. Everyone was afraid for their lives, and no one was safe."   
"He sounds like Grindelwald," said Remus.   
"Only about twenty times worse," said James slowly. "Is that how I died--I mean, I'm going to die, or however you say it?"   
Harry didn't meet his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted hoarsely, "You knew he was after you, too. You and Mum tried to hide, but--"   
"--someone gave you away," finished Sirius, his blood suddenly cold.   
"I don't remember much of it," Harry went on, running a finger along his scar, "I do remember a lot of green light and horrible laughter.   
"The weird part, the part I'm afraid to change, is this: Voldemort tried to kill me, too, with Avada Kedavra, but it didn't work."   
"But that's impossible!" sputtered Remus. "There's no countercurse!"   
"I know it's impossible," Harry shot back. "No one really understands it. At least, if Dumbledore knows, he isn't telling yet. All we know is that part of it was a charm my mum used. When Voldemort went to kill me, she offered herself first. She died for me, and I think--I _think_--that was part of the reason the curse failed. Instead of killing me, it rebounded on Voldemort. All I got was this scar." He pointed to the lightning scar on his forehead. "Voldemort didn't die, though, but he was almost destroyed, which was good enough."   
"Harry's famous for it," Ron added.   
"So you were worried," said Sirius slowly, "that if we knew about this, we'd try to stop Voldemort from trying to kill you, so he wouldn't be destroyed."   
"And more people might die," whispered James, his eyes not focused on the room or anything in it, but on strange visions that appeared to him then, visions of green light and horrible explosions and something large and invisible and unstoppable, whooshing down like wind upon him.   
"Something like that," said Harry, sighing. "I just keep thinking, though, that it all might be the past to us, but to you its still the future, and no one can really know the future. We've probably already ruined it all anyway, by telling you."   
James nodded dumbly. There was silence as each of the Marauders descended into deep thought, pondering the vast implications of Harry's words. James was contemplating his own mortality. Sirius was contemplating James' mortality and the horror of losing his best friend. Remus was wondering what he would do every month without the Marauders' support. Peter was trying not to panic over the thought of not having the great James Potter around to stick up for him. And however much Harry had wanted to warn his father about the future, he now deeply regretted ever mentioning it.   
After a long moment, Remus said slowly, "Sirius, is there a way to go back to our own time, but be a few minutes early?"   
Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Marauders all looked up. "What do you mean?" said Harry sharply.   
"He's suggesting we warn our past selves to not come forward in time," said James.   
"We can't do that!" exclaimed Sirius. "Not now that we know! We could prevent all this!"   
"Or make it a lot worse," said Remus, crossing his arms.   
"I think I'm willing to take that risk," Sirius answered coldly.   
"Yeah, and what if James still dies anyway? What then, Sirius?" Neither Harry nor Ron had ever seen Remus this angry. James didn't even seem to acknowledge that an argument was going on, his eyes were focused elsewhere, and he was lost in thought.   
"He doesn't have to die. Its still the future to us! The future can be changed," insisted Sirius stubbornly.   
"Wait a minute," said Ron, his face screwed up in concentration. "Is it even possible to go back and warn yourselves?"   
"What do you mean? Of course it can," said Remus, caught off-guard. "You just go back a few minutes early and explain to yourself that you shouldn't do what caused all the problems. Simple."   
"No..." Ron was making some odd motions with his hands, miming something. "If... if you go back and warn yourself, then your past self doesn't do the thing that you regret later, so you have no reason to go back in time and warn yourself, so your past self will never get warned to not do the thing you'll regret, so... wouldn't you do it anyway?"   
"You lost me," said Sirius. "But somewhere in there, I suspect you made sense."   
"But you could also tell yourself to wait a bit, go back in time to your past self, when you were warning yourself the first time, and warn them, thus completing the circle," said Remus after a bit.   
"But wouldn't that--" Ron suddenly looked very confused. He paused a moment, trying to figure that last part out, and then threw up his hands. "Never mind. I'm in way over my head. Why don't we ask Hermione? She's the one who had that Time-Turner."   
Harry looked up. "When I used it with her, two years ago, she told me that the one thing you absolutely couldn't do with time travel is meet yourself. I mean, you wouldn't be expecting to meet your future selves, would you? What would you think?"   
"I'd think I'd gone mad," said Peter quietly.   
"Exactly--"   
"But didn't we discuss the possibility of someone coming back to warn us before we left?" said Remus.   
"And no one did, did they?" Sirius pointed out.   
"Are you saying the matter's decided just because of that?" said Remus indignantly.   
"_Nothing's_ decided," James declared suddenly, and with surprising finality. Everyone jumped. He stared 'round at them all, a sort of hardness gleaming in his grey eyes. "I mean, nothing about the future is decided," he clarified. "Listen. We can't go back in time to warn ourselves because we have no idea what that might do. I for one don't feel like messing around with time any more than we have to. We can't use memory charms because I'm immune to them. You all know that. Except Harry and Ron." Harry and Ron exchanged surprised glances, never having heard of that sort of thing. "So," James went on, "tomorrow morning we go back to our own time and we face the future just like always. Frankly, I don't care if I die young, because at least it sounds like I die doing something noble, and that's more than most people get. And nothing's really decided anyway. I know none of us put much stock in what Professor Trelawney says, but she once had me do a study on Providence for detention, and one thing I learned from that study is that very few things, if any, happen without a reason. Maybe this whole time travel thing is a warning to us. Maybe we're supposed to learn something. Maybe we will change the future, and none of this will have happened. I don't know. But in any case, we know what maybe we shouldn't have known, and now there's nothing we can do about it."   
Harry now understood why Sirius said that James had been the de facto leader of the Marauders. There was an authority in his tone and posture that brooked no debate. He had spoken his piece and not even Dumbledore could have gainsaid it. Sirius wouldn't even meet James' eyes, and Peter looked downright terrified. Remus' gaze was steady, though, as if he suddenly understood what James was talking about. Yet James ignored him. He turned instead to Harry.   
"Don't tell us any more," he said firmly. Harry nodded, feeling rather dizzy about the whole thing.   
"I'd also suggest not arguing with him, unless you'd like to spend the rest of your life as a sugar quill," added Sirius, who seemed to have recovered enough to be sarcastic again.   
"And we should be getting to bed," James went on, standing up. "We've got a long day tomorrow." The other Marauders obeyed silently, retreating to the corner of Gryffindor Tower where they'd slept the past few nights. But James stayed behind a moment, still looking at Harry.   
"It's not your fault," he said softly. Harry met James' eyes and they stared at each other for a long moment, and a strange understanding passed between them.   
"It's not yours, either," Harry replied. 


	4. Last Words

Some Things are Better Left Unkown Some Things are Better Left Unknown

fanfic by A. Giesbrecht

"For in much Wisdom there is much Grief, and he that increaseth Knowledge increaseth Pain" --Ecclesiastes 1:18, KJV   
"Despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt." --Gandalf, _The Lord of the Rings_   
"No one is ever told what would have happened." --Aslan, _Prince Caspian_

(A/N: Anybody who gets the Tolkien quote--the one in the story, not the title, of course--deserves a cookie) 

--Chapter 4: Last Words-- 

The next morning, they were all up early. Harry had explained the situation to Hermione the night before (completely horrifying her) and she joined them in the common room at 5 AM for the Marauders' departure. Before then, though, while James was explaining something complicated to Peter, Sirius pulled Harry aside.   
"You have to tell me," he demanded.   
"Whatever it is you want to know, I can't," said Harry. "You heard James."   
"Well, don't tell him you told me then," said Sirius shortly. "But I have to know."   
"What?"   
"It was me, wasn't it? Just tell me it was me who did it, so as soon as we get back I can go feed myself to the giant squid."   
"Sirius, what are you talking about? Who did what?"   
Sirius clenched his fists, looking frustrated. "Don't play dumb, Harry! I heard Ron say one of James' friends sold him to Voldemort. If it was me, just tell me now so I can jump off the Astronomy Tower, or drink undiluted bubotuber pus, or laugh at a live dragon, or otherwise end my life before I can sink that low! I have to know!"   
Harry just stared at him. His mind went back to the Shrieking Shack, and the undeniable conviction in the older Sirius' voice when he'd said he would rather have died than betray James Potter. Harry had never really thought about how deep or far back that kind of brotherly devotion went, never really realised how strong it could be, as it was obvious that Sirius really would prefer death. The sober, determined look on the young Sirius Black's face was far to old for him. Harry was speechless in the face of it. At last, he said,   
"It wasn't you."   
"Don't you dare lie--"   
"I swear, Sirius, it wasn't you! I swear on--on my life! You would never betray anybody, and you know it."   
Sirius swallowed his reply and looked down at his shoes.   
"In fact," Harry hesitated, unsure whether he should say it, but wanting desperately to dispell all of Sirius' doubts. "In fact, if it weren't for you, I don't know what I'd do. You're still around, you know. You're going to be my godfather."   
Now it was Sirius who didn't know what to say, mouthing "What?"   
"You'll look out for me," Harry went on. "You'll write to me, and give me advice. You'll tell me what my parents were like. You'll be..." Harry glanced at James, who was still deep in conversation with Peter. (Remus would have helped, but he'd fallen asleep) "You're the closest thing I have to a dad." Sirius' formerly open mouth closed and tightened as a look of wonder and acceptance merged in his eyes. The whole situation had taken on a completely new light.   
"Padfoot, are you ready?" James was done explaining whatever-it-was to Peter.   
"Oh, er, yeah," Sirius took one last, hard look at Harry before helping James wake up Remus.   
They descended the stairs of the tower silently, meeting Hermione in the common room. Hermione, upon seeing them, immediately ran up to Harry and Ron and hissed "I can't believe you told them!"   
"It was an accident! Honest!"   
"Right." Hermione folded her arms in a manner very reminsiscent of Mrs. Weasley when Fred and George were trying to explain why Percy had just turned into a large chipmunk.   
"It _was_ an accident, Hermione," said Remus, coming over to them. "They were arguing, and we were standing outside the door. They didn't know we were there."   
"But a memory charm--"   
"No good," said Ron. "According to James, they don't work on him."   
"That's impossible." Hermione was even more skeptical than before.   
"It's not impossible," said James, "It's true. Memory charms just don't work on me." He paused a moment before explaining. "Back in third year, Flitwick taught us Cheering Charms, but no one in our class--not even Lily Evans, the best in our year at Charms, could get one to work on me."   
"Even Flitwick couldn't get the charm to work," add Remus, "but he didn't ask any questions. That evening, McGonagall called James away to Dumbledore's office. We thought he was in trouble for something."   
"_I _thought I was in trouble for something," corrected James. "But Dumbledore only sat me down and asked me what happened in Charms. I told him, and then he asked me if he could try a few other spells, because he suspected it wasn't just a mistake. So it turns out that I'm resistant to almost any kind of charm that has to do with altering my mind: Memory Charms, Cheering Charms, Distraction Charms, most glamours... maybe even the Imperious Curse, but we're not sure."   
"James won't let me try," said a dissappointed Sirius.   
"There's a reason its called an Unforgivable Curse, Padfoot," said Remus. "We don't want you spending the rest of your life in Azkaban."   
"I wouldn't make him do anything _bad_."   
"Can I trust you on that?" said James with a knowing smirk.   
"Look, it wouldn't be _that_ lacy--"   
"Harry can throw off the Imperious Curse," interrupted Ron. All the Marauders stared at him.   
"Someone's cast it on him?" said James, shocked.   
"It was... part of a class excercise, in Defense Against the Dark Arts," explained Harry quickly. "Nothing serious. But Ron didn't have any problem casting a Cheering Charm on me."   
"Were you in a good mood that day?" asked Sirius.   
Harry gave him a funny look. "What does that have to do with anything?"   
"You have to want to resist the charm," said Remus. "Consciously or unconsciously. James really didn't want cheering up, so he resisted it. That's also why the Somebody Else's Problem charm worked on you, too. If you'd been suspicious of distractions charms, you probably could have broken it without our help."   
Hermione glance at her watch. "I'm sorry Remus, this is really interesting, but its getting late, and the other students will be up soon. Are you four ready to leave?"   
James shrugged. "As ready as we'll ever be, I think. Sirius?"   
"We don't have to do anything special for this part," said Sirius with a smirk. "I could have said the incantation anytime and sent us back home, no matter what we were doing."   
"That could be unpleasant," shivered Remus.   
"Or very funny, depending on how you look at it," said Sirius, grinning.   
"So, are we saying goodbye?" said Harry, an unexpected ache twinging in his chest. He couldn't stop thinking how this would be the last and only time he would ever see his father alive, regardless of form. It wasn't hard in the least for every last Marauder to guess what he was thinking.   
"Don't worry, Harry," said Peter. "We won't forget you."   
"Yeah, and who knows? This just might change everything," chimed in Sirius, trying to be cheerful, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach.   
"And sorry if I've been a wet blanket about all this," said Remus uncomfortably. "It's just that I would never forgive myself if everything changed for the worse because of us."   
Harry couldn't help but grin. "Forget it. Where would we all be if you weren't a wet blanket?"   
Sirius tried to say something like "Having a good deal more fun," but James jabbed him in the ribs.   
"It's been great, Harry, it really has," said James honestly. "And if things don't change, at least, you know, I know what sort of person you're, er, going to be."   
"And I know now what you're--" Harry almost couldn't say it, "--what you're really like..." There was a very uncomfortable moment as they stared at one another, the gravity of what they were saying sinking in. Then, abruptly, they embraced. James' eyes were hot with tears, and he guessed that Harry was crying, too, but they both realised that they didn't care. Any sort of petty teenage idea of dignity melted as Harry clung tight to the boy who would someday be his father. Maybe this James was only fifteen, but that didn't change the fundamental truth of it, that for once in his life, Harry's father was not just a dream, a memory, or a shadowy spectre, but a real, warm, solid human being. As for James, he didn't fully understand the emotion that engulfed him now. Something about family, and regret, and longing, and loneliness, and it was as strong as anything else he'd ever felt before. All he could rightly comprehend was that this meant the world to Harry, and that he wanted Harry to know that it would be all right.   
Presently, Harry pulled away. "You'd better get going," he whispered hoarsely.   
"Right then." James straightened his robes and rejoined the other Marauders. "Harry?"   
"Yeah?"   
"In case--in case I still die, I just want you to know that, erm, that..." James took a very deep breath. "That I think you would have made a really great son." It was not the most eloquent thing James had ever said, not by a long shot, but it was enough. And he felt a lot better for having said it, seeing how Harry's face lit up.   
"And I think you would make a really great dad," Harry replied in kind.   
That was the last thing James heard before Sirius repeated the incantation that would send them back through time. He wasn't sure whether the shimmer that swept the room, taking Harry, Ron, and Hermione with it, was wholly from the spell, or if it had to do with the tears in his eyes. Either way, when he blinked, they were gone. Dead silence reigned over the Common Room at 3AM, the fourth of November, 1970.   
"So that's it, then," said Sirius quietly, as they all watched the blazing fire in the hearth. "We did what we did, and now we're back. Now what?"   
"Now we go to bed," said James, looking up at him, determination never wavering. "And tomorrow we face the future, just like any other day." He paced resolutely to the dormitory door, paused, and waited for the others to follow.   
Peter shook his head. "I just hope this time, the future is different."   
"Me too, Peter," said Remus, following James, with the others right behind. They ascended the stairs in silence, pushing open the door of their own familiar dormitory, empty of course. Each boy went to his own bed, changing into pajamas, and still saying nothing. But as James took off his glasses, he remarked into the darkness of the room, "The important thing is that we don't forget." 

_November 8, 1995_

Harry was mostly silent the rest of the day. Neither Ron nor Hermione chose to comment about this, though everyone noticed. There was really no point. Harry's friends only hoped he wouldn't dwell too long on the past. It was hard enough for them, meeting Harry's dad and his friends when they were young and innocent, but they couldn't fathom what Harry was going through. So, after assuring him that they would be willing and eager to listen if he chose to talk about it, Ron and Hermione pretty much left Harry alone and stayed at a distance, watching.   
But the next day, something unexpected happened. The three friends were eating breakfast in the Great Hall, still mostly silent, when the mail arrived. But that wasn't the unexpected thing. The unexpected thing was that no less than three owls decended upon Harry, each carrying a different letter. Harry stared at them in wonder as they delivered their burdens, taking turns to sample Harry's pumpkin juice and bacon before taking flight again. Harry recognised the handwriting of two of the letters immediately. One had Remus Lupin's formal script, and another Sirius' bold lettering. But the third was addressed in a quick, angular hand, very unlike the other two, and the parchment it was written on was rather yellow. Overcome with curiousity, Harry immediately got up from his place and slipped out of the Hall, Ron and Hermione following. He fairly ran back to the dormitory, which was largely deserted, and holed up in a corner, ripping open the letters.   
"Can I see them when you're done?" asked Ron hesitantly. Harry only nodded, unfolding first Remus' letter. It said: 

_ Dear Harry,_

_ I suppose you've had quite an adventure this last week. I was wondering why the date 3 November 1995 on my calendar looked so familiar when Sirius reminded me of our time-travelling excursion. The oddest part is thinking that to me, that adventure was twenty-five years ago, whereas to you, it was only yesterday. I was very tempted to drop by Hogwarts during it all and give you all a good scare when I realised that anything I did to you would come back to haunt me in my memories._   
_ You should know what happened as a result of it all. Though nothing earth-shattering changed, (obviously) the knowledge that you would someday meet your father, even as a fifteen-year-old boy, was a great comfort to me. When things looked darkest back in 1981, James would sometimes bring up your parting words to him, and we would all remember that someday, somehow, the Light would triumph, and you would be safe at Hogwarts, maybe as an orphan, but safe nonetheless. I'm glad that, in spite of everything, this has turned out to be true._   
_ It just occured to me (with Sirius' help) that I should send you instructions on performing the Somebody Else's Problem charm. I'm sure it will prove immensely helpful, especially with all that has been going on, so I will enclose them with this letter. Also, you are probably quite curious about the nature and extent of your abilities to resist Mind-Altering Charms. We did a lot of research on it after Hogwarts, and I'd be happy to answer any questions._   
_ And now it seems that Sirius has stolen my owl in order to deliver his own letter, so I must send this with a post owl from the villiage. Take care! I hope to see you soon, and then perhaps we can sit and reminisce about all the fun we had with Filch's cat._

_ Remus_

Harry smiled as he handed the letter to Ron, digging in the envelope for the promised instructions. Sure enough, he found them, and after a quick glance, he tore open Sirius' letter, wondering what it would say. The unknown letter he would save for last. 

_ Harry,_

_ Tell me honestly, was I as annoying as Remus is insisting I was when we showed up in the Common Room at the age of fifteen? He seems to think that I made a complete idiot of myself, but I disagree._   
_ Anyway, I hope the past few days have been as much fun as I remember them being. Please let me know if Snape has managed to pick up a few new nicknames as a result of our hairstyling prowess. If you'd like instructions on anything we pulled, just let me know. (Remus will be including his Somebody Else's Problem charm in his letter, so you can use that. It takes a bit of practice, but don't practice on yourself and end up being ignored for two days, like your dad did)_   
_ Harry, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for telling me the truth about whether I would betray Lily and James, and for adding the bit about being your godfather. Though I admit that it was partly because of that that I suspected Remus to be the traitor, and also partly why I convinced James to switch Secret-Keepers, (don't dwell on this part, I'll try to explain later) it was still your words that sustained me through many long nights in Azkaban. Knowing that you would come out all right, that you would someday believe my innocence, was a source of great hope for me. It wasn't a truly happy thought, so it, like my knowledge of my own innocence, couldn't be taken from me, but it was certainly something. Though its also why I didn't think to explain myself right away back in the Shrieking Shack. I guess I assumed you would believe me without question. Its a good thing Remus knew better. (Doesn't he always?) But the important thing is that you told me, and that if you hadn't, I probably really would have tried to commit suicide. Let me put it this way: you saved my life, Harry._   
_ And now I'm being very sentimental. At this point in the conversation, James would be cuffing me in the shoulder and telling me to get on with it. It is the truth, though._   
_ I hope to see you soon. I've been at Remus' since June, and he's been out and about rounding up all our old friends, but that part's almost finished. It won't be long before Dumbledore summons us all, and it will likely be at Hogwarts. So keep your eyes open._

_ Sirius_

Harry couldn't swallow the lump in his throat after reading Sirius' letter, but he put it aside, itching to find out who had sent the last letter. He examined the parchment and handwriting carefully. There was an odd stamp on the back, saying "DELAYED DELIVERY, 9 NOVEMBER, 1995" A sense of anticipation made Harry shiver as he slit open the envelope. He gasped loudly when he saw both the signature and the date, and read the letter three times over: 

_29 October 1981_

_ Dear Harry,_

_ I certainly hope this letter finds you well. Actually, my greatest hope is that this letter doesn't find you at all, and that in a few months or so, I can stop by the Owl Post office and retrieve it when it becomes unnecessary. But something tells me that won't happen._   
_ As I write this, the memories of that adventure we had in your time come back clear as a photograph to my mind, and I remember just as clearly what you told me about my fate. I still don't believe that such things are set in stone, but I also know that fate isn't something you can avoid. You're reading this letter, which means that things haven't changed, that your mother and I still lost our lives, and that you are still an orphan. It breaks my heart to think about it._   
_ This will seem odd to you, but as I'm writing this, I'm watching you. You're still very small yet, just a toddler, but you are already the joy of our lives. Lily's and mine. Lily can't get over how much you're like me, in looks and temper. But I know that you're also a lot like Lily. You have her eyes, of course, but you also have her quiet strength and common sense. I haven't told her what I know about the possible future, I don't think it would be quite fair. Its bad enough that I know what might happen, I couldn't bear to thrust that burden on her. But she knows the possibilities. And I hope more than anything that it won't matter in the end, and that she will know what sort of person you become because she is there to see it._   
_ But that's not the point of this letter, to bring up dreams of what-could-have-been. The point is to tell you that I--we--love you dearly, Harry. That I've been thinking a lot about what you become, and that even if I'm not there to see you now, that I'm still very proud of you. Perhaps Sirius has already told you that I would be, but I know you want to hear it from me. You're a wonderful son. Don't forget that. Don't doubt it, either._   
_ I should like to thank you for not telling me who I would marry. Especially since, if you had, I probably wouldn't have believed you. But you will have to ask one of the other Marauders for details about how I, mischeivous prankster James Potter, ended up with studious, law-abiding Lily Evans. It still surprises me that actually fell in love, but Harry, you could not ask for a better mother. She is a postively wonderful woman: talented, intelligent, kind, caring, absolutely beautiful, and she makes a mean fruit salad. Go ahead, laugh at that. I wish you could see the glare she's giving me right now for telling her that I consider it her most winning trait. Your mother has a very nice glare._   
_ I hope you enjoyed yourself during our visit at least as much as I think you did. You have no idea how glad I am that no matter what happens, you will still have those memories of me and the Marauders. I suppose its no use now admonishing you to stay out of trouble. In fact, Harry, I want to encourage you to get into as much harmless trouble as you can manage. Sirius can be a great help in this area. Your years at Hogwarts are probably already the best you've ever had; enjoy them while you can! Be creative, and never underestimate the possibilites of a well-placed Dungbomb. Don't forget to study, though. If only because the more you know about magic, the more fun you can have with magical pranking. But also because, as your father, it is my duty to tell you to study hard, even if I'm not there in person to do it. And if Lily knew about this, she would probably tell you to study hard, too._   
_ Harry, there's something you might want to know. I've been studying protective charms ever since we returned from our adventure. I remembered that you said it was Lily's sacrifice that saved you, and I wanted to know how that worked. This is what I've found:_   
_ I'm pretty sure what saved your life is a charm called the Agape Aeternum Charm. It is extremely rare and difficult, especially because no one is quite sure how it works. Only the strongest and deepest love that a person can have for another can set the charm and make it stick. I don't know what all this involves, but if Lily really does offer herself to Voldemort in your place, that's what did it. None of the books I've found on the charm say how strong it is, only that it has been known to protect against powerful curses. I'm glad knowing that our love for you will protect you against the worst curse of all._   
_ I'm afraid I have to end my letter. There's so much I wish I could tell you, but there isn't time, or space. I've enclosed a picture for you of all us Marauders and our friends at your first birthday party. Well, almost all. Peter couldn't make it. He had an urgent call to the Ministry that day, but I'm sure you understand. I just kept remembering how you had no photos on your bedside table, and this was the best one, especially because it has you in it. I hope you like it._

_ Love,_

_ Dad_

Through tears and shaking hands, Harry dug out the rest of the contents of the envelope. Inside was the aforementioned picture. Harry stared at it for a long time, unable to keep from smiling at the cheerful group that waved up at him. This was one picture he didn't have in the album Hagrid had given him, and he decided immediately that he needed to find a frame: it would look great on his bedside table. It was of a picnic, out in a beautiful garden full of flowers and trees and thick green grass. In the background was a small, homey cottage, and a whole group of family and friends were sitting on the grass, waving at the camera. Sirius and Remus were in it, of course, waving and grinning madly, looking young and happy, along with a few others Harry didn't know. He hoped Sirius could tell him. But the best part of all was his parents in the center, looking up and smiling at him while Lily held a one-year-old Harry in her arms. "Thanks, Dad," Harry whispered. 

_Same day, in some nastily cold corner of Britain_

Peter Pettigrew, known to some as Wormtail, shivered as he huddled outside his master's fortress. But he didn't shirk from his duties. His master needed him, and he was more than willing to obey. He enjoyed knowing that he'd chosen the right side of things, the side that won. The side that gave him power. So he kept watch over the land about Voldemort's fortress, ready to welcome the Death Eaters that arrived to give their reports and pay homage to the greatest Dark Wizard of all time, whom Peter counted himself priviledged to serve.   
The wind moaned hollowly, and Peter pulled his cloak closer. Blasted weather, he thought, grimacing at the dark clouds that sailed ever-so-slowly across a leaden sky. As he watched, a bit of newspaper skittered along the ground, carried by the wind. It snagged on Peter's boots and held there. Peter tried to shake it off, but it wouldn't come, sticking long enough for him to notice the headlines. He wrinkled his brow. Why did the paper look so familiar? Bending down, he snatched it up, unfolding it against the persistent wind.   
It was a copy of the Daily Prophet, several days old and probably tossed by some careless wizard and forgotten. But what caught Peter's eye was the date: 3 November 1995. He choked. He knew that date.   
Memories half-forgotten over the last quarter of a century flooded back into his mind, bright and clear and painful. A wild idea, courtesy of Sirius. A complicated charm. Walking about in a strange future, meeting James' son. Three days spent wreaking havoc on Hogwarts. And then that awful discovery... He could hear, loud and clear as if spoken beside him, the words of Harry's best friend: 

"...what are you gonna tell them: 'Hey James, guess what, one of your friends is going to sell your life for his'?" 

They'd known. They'd always known. Peter squeezed his eyes shut against the images that assaulted him, the sounds, the words, Remus and Sirius arguing over whether they can change things back; Ron, white as milk as he stared off into space; Harry, sobbing into his hands; James, bravely accepting his fate... 

"... at least it sounds like I die doing something noble, and that's more than most people get." 

Noble... die doing something noble... noble sacrifice... love... He died for the love of his son... he would have died for his friends... Sirius' words from more than a year before stabbed his heart like a blade of fire. 

"YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED. DIED, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!" 

James died... as Peter should have died... he died... he knew it was coming... he wasn't afraid to die... 

"Curse you, James, why do you have to haunt me??" Peter's cry was lost to the wind and the empty lands. He slumped against the fortress wall, covering his head with his hands and weeping, weeping for lost innocence, for lost friends, for broken trust and betrayal. For a boy without a father, and parents who would never see their son grown. Weeping for the knowledge that it was all his fault; his weakness, his fear, his selfishness that was to blame. For the first time in his life, the magnitude of his sins became clear to him. 

A/N: Yowzers. When I started this story, even this chapter, I wouldn't have imagined that it would end like that. Strangely, I finished this chapter at about 2AM, when I was supposed to be working on a doctrinal statement. I'm always most creative when I'm supposed to be doing something else. g> But man, I never thought I could make Wormtail a sympathetic character. However much I hate the man, I have to pity him too. His weakness and fear are all too familiar. Worse, his transgressions will catch up with him someday, and may the Lord have mercy on his soul when they do.)   
2nd A/N for the updated edition: Arwen, you didn't know where the Tolkien quote was? Its in the argument between Harry and Sirius right at the beginning of this chapter. 

"... so I can jump off the Astronomy Tower, or drink undiluted bubotuber pus, or _laugh at a live dragon..._" 

"Never laugh at live dragons, Bilbo, you fool!" _The Hobbit_

I just couldn't help myself. Hope everyone is enjoying the new HTML formatting. I just couldn't stand using txt anymore. 

And to all my wonderful reviewers: Padfootsgirl, lily girl, Technomad, Malfoy's Best Friend, Zeptron Zulu, Sandrilene Anastasia, Barbara Fett, peachylaura, KittenGirl555, RavenLady, Dunno, Hermione2000, Lunamew, parker, Julie, Xavien, Arwen, Ayleeandra, Mayleesa, hermione, Maxwell Coffee House, Jenavira, Onedergirl, Adelina, Dark Empress, Chupacabra, Cat, lone astronomer, Dumbledore, Girl 17, ~*Ginny*~, Zelda, and Aziraphale; **_THANKS, GUYS!_** Your kind words are greatly appreciated. 


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